The Bedroom Philosipher I'm So Postmodern Lyrics
I'm so postmodern that I just don't talk anymore,
I wear different coloured t-shirts according to my mood.
I'm so postmodern that I work from home
as a surf life saving consumer hotline.
I'm so postmodern that all my clothes are made out of sleeping bags,
I don't need pockets, I'm a pocket myself.
I'm so postmodern I go to parties I'm not invited to
and locate the vegemite and write my name on everyone.
I'm so postmodern that I write reviews for funerals,
and heckle at weddings from inside a suitcase.
I'm so postmodern I'm going to adopt a child,
and teach him how to knit, and call him Adolf Diggler.
I'm so postmodern that I breakdance in waiting rooms,
play Yahtzee in nightclubs, at three in the afternoon.
I'm so postmodern I only go on dates that last thirteen minutes,
via walky talky, while hiding under the bed.
I'm so postmodern I invite strangers to my house,
and put on a slide show of other people's nans.
I'm so postmodern I went home and typed up everything you said,
and printed it out in wingdings, and gave it back to you.
I'm so postmodern I held an art exhibition -
a Chuppa Chup stuck to a swimming cap, and no one was invited.
I'm so postmodern I make alphabet soup,
and dye it purple, and pour it on the lawn.
I'm so postmodern I request Hey Mona on karaoke,
then sing my life story to the tune of My Sharona.
I'm so postmodern I only think in palendromic haikus -
(insert palendromic haiku).
I'm so postmodern that I sit down to wee,
and stand up to poo, at job interviews.
I'm so postmodern that I dress up as Santa,
in the middle of August, and haunt golf courses.
I'm so postmodern that I cut off all my hair,
and knitted it into a beanie, and threw it off a bridge.
I'm so postmodern that I stole everyone's mail,
and cut them up into a ransom note and hid it in a thermos.
I'm so postmodern I take my leggo to the supermarket
and build my own shopping trolley, and only buy one nut.
I'm so postmodern I wrote a letter to the council -
...I think it was 'M.'
I'm so postmodern I bought a round the world plane ticket,
and stuffed my clothes with eggplant and pretended it was me.
I'm so postmodern I've got a tattoo of my pin number
in heiroglyphics on my neighbour's guide dog.
I'm so postmodern I fought my way into parliament,
and made a law banning Nuttelex, and then moved to Spain.
I'm so postmodern that I iron all my lettuce leaves,
put my shirts in the crisper - they're real crisp.
I'm so postmodern I give live mice to buskers,
dirty tea towels to the Mormons, and pavlova to crabs.
I'm so postmodern that I live in a tent,
on a platform of skateboards that's tied to a tram.
I'm so postmodern I write four thousand-word essays
on the cultural significance of party pies.
I'm so postmodern I recite Shakespeare at KFC drive thru's,
through a megaphone, in sign language.
I'm so postmodern I'm going to watch the Olympics
on a black & white TV, with the sound down.
I'm so postmodern I go to the gym after hours,
push up against the door, then cry myself to sleep.
I'm so postmodern I wrote a trilogy of novels
from the perspective of a possum that Jesus patted once.
I'm so postmodern that I marry all my friends,
soak myself in metho, and tell them that they've changed.
I'm so postmodern I bought every book written in 1963
as a reading challenge, and clogged up a waterslide.
I'm so postmodern I think I might be a god
in my undies rolling in sugar, in the carpark of a rodeo.
I'm so postmodern I prerecorded this song,
and laced a message subliminally telling Shane Porteous to buy a smock.
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